Dear Diary,
It has been an eventful morning. That is a vastly bizzare understatement. My 30 year friendship with my best friend, Kelli came to an end this morning. The management company decided to spring a surprise inspection on us. And the various other things that I was dealing with this morning through my email box.
Doc got up, and I was tense. And I knew he was just going to frustrate me more. I didn’t have any fire for my smoke, so I decided, out of the blue, to get dressed and walk up to the store and get a lighter. I needed a walk, I needed time alone to think.
So, out I go. Picture me, tangled hair, combed with fingers back off of my face, black jeans, motorcycle boots and a grey wife-beater over a black bra. I’m strolling along in the heat and sun beating off the main drag by my house. I’m red and sweating with the effort, and probably have a nasty look on my face because I am thinking nasty thoughts. I get to a cross street. look, and start to cross. Squeal of brakes, a car turning in, from I don’t know where, passes 6 inches from me. Completely blind with rage, I kick my foot out as the car goes by me, and dent the passenger door, quite badly.
The car drives a few yards, and screeches to a halt. A small bleach-blonde woman in gaudy athletic wear emerges from the car, with her phone pointed at me. I get that she is recording me. She starts to slowly approach me as I stand, now in the middle of the cross street, with my hands on my hips. As she approaches, I say, loudly, so as to be heard over the traffic behind me, “You need to call the police.” “Why?” she stupidly asks me, continuing to film and slowly approach. “Because I am going to fuck you up and they are going to need to arrest me unless you get in that car and drive quickly away, NOW.”
As I am saying this, she is backing slowly away, still recording. When I finish, her phone-arm drops to her side and she stands there, agape. I took one step toward her. She turned and ran back to her car and squealed tires away. I couldn’t believe it.
What’s the replacement cost on the passenger side door of a Nissan coupe? Because I fucked her car up. There’s no pounding that shit out. And she has me on film. And I was on foot near my home, so I won’t be hard to find.
So, look for me on the evening news or on the youtube or facebook, with some yuppie chick hunting me down to pay for the cost of her door. And maybe a little of her pride.
I was going to go into the other stuff, but I don’t have the energy. To sum up: I managed to put off the inspection with jabber about 24 hour written notice and violation of tenants rights, until Thursday. By then we will have the animals and plants stashed away. The house is in great shape, so I’m not at all worried about that. I just really freak out when someone is at my door insisting I let them in to poke around.
The shit with Kelli, it’s been a long time coming. Her toxic attitude is completely destroying my psyche, as she is the only person I’ve had to talk to. It’s sad that it is ending. And it’s horrible that it is ending the way that it is, for both of us. But it’s a break I have to make. I am drowning, and I don’t know how to swim, let alone save someone else from the waves. I’ve been trying. I’ve knocked myself out trying to help get her out of her funk and help her improve her life. I have offered her a new home in a new city with new job opportunities. I have offered/provided her with outlets for her art, including sales and promotion, which just doesn’t interest her anymore. Nothing does. Nothing but complaining. That’s all we do. We complain at each other. When I try to tell her what I’m up to, to try to inspire her to get up and do something for herself, she just shuts down and ignores me. I can’t take it anymore.
And on top of all of that, when I told her she had hurt my feelings, she gave me the standard bullshit response I have advised her myself to give people who she is completely done with. After 30 years, I have the courage to tell her my feelings were hurt, and that is what she gives me back. Fuck her. Really. I give her better than that. I deserve better than that.
So that was the emotion behind me freaking out on the woman who almost took my life today. And I really hope I don’t have to pay for that door. Maybe it’s time to change my hair again.